Raised in a Traveling Society

Current Class: Wannabe Princess (Traveler)

"Raised in a traveling society." you answer, getting a nod from the maid in return. "Does that me-"

The dream shifts locales, bringing you before a large tent. Still decked out in your gown, it feels lighter now. Like it's designed more for traveling than actual princess activities. You don't mind it really. Even if you are confused on why you're standing in front this particular tent.

"Coming through." a voice announced and you stepped off to the side. There, a man exits it with a newly born baby girl. He's dressed for traveling - lightweight almost dresslike in design. That's probably you he's holding at the moment. If not, your future wife. Which is even more awkward. So you push that thought out for the moment.

Shifting locales, you see what could only be your younger self learning to shoot targets with a bow and arrow in a field of something. There's another girl there, right around your younger self's age. That has to be your future wife.

In between shots, she coughing. Nothing major, especially with the lozenges you had given her. Those usually did the trick. Yet the scenery begins to shift rapidly. The girls begin to grow up and part of you knows what coming.

You're standing on a cliff, watching a wedding play out. Your wedding. It's the last happy memory you have with her. A couple months later, you had to bury her. Her health deteriorated far faster than either of you could patch it back together.

"I did everything to the best of my ability! Why the fuck did you have to take her away?!"

You kick a rock. It doesn't really do anything, sadly. As the tears roll on down, light pierces through.

"Lydia, are you alright?"